Shattered Promises
by Adventuress
Summary: Auriel Surana has returned to Kinloch Hold after the threat of blight has passed. She is now a ghost of her former self as she tries to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and devastated life. Will she ever be able to put certain things in the past?
1. Shattered Promises: Intro

Legal Jargon:

_This story, which is called "Shattered Promises", is an independent fanfic. Neither this story, nor the author is authorized or sponsored by, nor licensed or affiliated in any way with any entity involved with or representing the development, marketing, distribution or support of EA, or BioWare Corporation. All titles, items, and characters, described or referred to in "Shattered Promises" of the original game are trademarks of their respective companies. This fanfic is absolutely non-commercial and non-profit, and may not be distributed in any forms or in any parts without prior consent of the author "Adventuress"._

Spoilers:

At any time this story could contain spoilers from throughout the game. The story is set _after_ the end of the game, so more than a few spoilers are bound to happen.

Author Comments:

I haven't written in _quite _a while, but it seems DA: O has tapped into something that made me want to write again. Please excuse any glaring grammatical errors. If anyone is interested in becoming a beta reader, just send me a message and let me know. Have any ideas you'd like to see? Send me a message as well, and I'll think about incorporating them. Thanks for taking your time to read and review.

Updates:

Two chapters. The second chapter skips ahead a few months in the timeline. I hope that isn't too confusing. Third chapter is being written as you read this. Please enjoy! Reviews help inspire. Any constructive critisism is welcome.

**_Please go to the next chapter for actual story. This is only an update page._**


	2. Return To Kinloch Hold

_Return To Kinloch Hold_

* * *

Auriel's fingertips drifted along the cool stone of the wall for a matter of moments before the flesh melded with a sticky surface. Her dark brows arched in silent wonder as she brought the edge of her slender digits into her peripheral vision. Her features twisted into a look of utter confusion as dark crimson stained her fingers.

A soft whine beside of her threatened to rouse her from her current state but she refused to give in. She brought her fingers back along the bloodstained wall and continued her slow, deliberate pace up the stairs. Every step made her body ache that much more with exhaustion but she continued due to sheer determination.

As she opened the large wooden door to the upper quarters of The Circle Tower, a repulsive stench enveloped around her being. She would have…she _should _have shivered or grimaced as her blank stare drifted around the broken and quiet hallway but she had to admit that she obviously wasn't herself at the moment. Too many things had happened in the past few days, too many negative and horrifying things, for her mind to wrap around them completely. Instead of trying to sift through the pieces of her broken heart and gathering her strength to help the Circle, she decided to walk around the almost-empty tower a ghost of the former woman she once was. Her gaze saw little but blood and gore and her mind would only take on the simpliest of tasks. She wondered idly to herself if this was somewhat how Tranquils actually…_felt._

A throbbing soreness in her feet dulled her thoughts as she took a few steps forward. Another whine sounded from the Mabari beside of her. The small frown on her lips deepened as she held her blood-spattered fingers barely away from her form. Ember, as she had lovingly named the warhound, brought his tounge out to lap tenderly at the digits in a sign of consolation. She sighed deeply as she stopped in front of a wooden bucket in the floor of the hallway. Her gaze drifted down to it for a long moment as she shook her head. Dark tresses spilled from their place atop her head and trickled into her line of vision. She swept them in an annoyed fashion behind her pointed ears and leaned down to study the bucket in with almost too much determination. It was a bucket like any other…except it stuck out like a sore thumb within the dirty hall. It was filled with cool and clean water almost to the edge. An unsoiled rag drifted lazily in the liquid. Auriel didn't know whos it was, or who brought it this far up and frankly she didn't care. She dipped her hands into the water and began to twist the rag of its contents until only a few droplets were left. She stood from her crouching position and turned to look at the wall. Strange substances covered the stone and she put herself to work by incessantly scrubbing it. Over and over she scraped the gore from the walls until the clear water in the bucket turned a dark red. Her fingers were pruned and began to lock in place from using the same motion over and over.

Ember stood watching his master for what seemed to be an eternity before he decided to help her. His tounge lapped over the stone numerous times to try and rid the wall of contamination. A small patter of footsteps caught his attention after a few moments, however, and he turned to see a white-haired mage slowly walking toward them. He sounded a soft bark to alert his master.

Auriel stopped her long strokes along the wall and turned slightly to see Wynne standing a few feet away from her. Wynne's expression was somber and concerned. Auriel looked away. She didn't have the patience to listen to another of Wynne's scoldings so she turned back to scrubbing another part of the wall.

"You are tired." Wynne's voice was soft but it held an edge.

"Many are tired. It is a wonder we do not all sleep through both day and night." She took the dirty rag and dipped it into the water before scrubbing again.

Wynne shook her head. "You _need_ sleep. If you have come back to help the Circle, _truly _help the Circle, then your mind and thoughts are needed here…within these walls…at least for the moment. Not in the past. Not with the Darkspawn and not…with Alistair."

Anger suddenly rose from the heart of Auriel's chest and pounded its way up through her body until it was visible on her cheeks. The flesh turned a rosy red and her eyes began to turn blurry. She suddenly twisted from the wall while slamming the rag back into the bucket. "Am I not allowed to grieve? If only for a few days? I've lost _much_ in so little a time-" She stopped herself. There was no use in arguing with the woman. She knew deep down that she was right.

"Your grieving process would last for weeks if you'd let it. Sleep well tonight and clear your mind for the tasks at hand tomorrow. It's going to be a rather long day for you." A quick but soft smile graced the woman's lips before she placed her hands behind her back politely and turned to leave. A loud huff from Ember sounded as he sat on his haunches.

Wynne's footfalls could barely be heard as she faded from sight. A louder, heavier set of footsteps caught Auriel's attention as they made themselves known with each deliberate stride up the stairs. The footfalls stopped for a moment and she heard a soft fluttering of voices that echoed from the stairway. One of them was decidedly more masculine but she couldn't pinpoint who its owner was. The loud footsteps continued. She watched the empty doorway and waited with almost-bated breath.

The silhoutte of a Templar appeared in the hallway. As he neared she saw his cynical features with the tight lips and distrusting gaze. She knew better than to speak to him in that moment so she simply turned around and began to scrub at the wall for a little while longer before she would retire to her quarters. She did not have to ask Cullen why he was there. She knew.

Ember let out a long sigh as he went to place himself on the ground. It would be a while before his master would move off again so he simply watched the Templar and waited.

Cullen stood on the opposite wall behind her with his hands forcibly pinned to his sides. His gaze drifted everywhere but on her. To each side of her figure, to the ceiling, to the opposite sides of the hallway, these were the places his stare landed. He shifted in the armor noisily and quietly cleared his throat. She had stopped scrubbing a few moments ago and that was when his gaze finally landed on her form, hammering through her flesh as if to expose her for the abomination that she really was.

Auriel's gaze turned blank for a moment as her cleaning faltered. Her arm fell lax to her side as her memories unexpectedly took her back to the Tower before the blight and bloodshed…before finding out about Jowan; before her life had become so complicated and miserable.

And her heart ached for that simpler time.


	3. Escapism

_Shattered Promises- Chapter Two_

Auriel's dark lashes fluttered open. A sharp intake of breath could be heard. She wondered how early, or possibly, how late it was. A distinct lack of windows in the room had always made it hard to tell if it was day or night. Her fingers went to her eyes in a slow rubbing motion as she sat up in bed. She wondered what she was going to work on today. Maybe a bit of potion cataloguing? Or perhaps she'd be put to the test of counting all the books in that blasted library again. She frowned deeply. Maybe she'd try to get out of it this time—

A knock on the door shattered her thoughts. She threw the blankets off of her quickly and allowed her legs to dangle from the bed a moment as her fingers desperately tried to smooth down her tangled mane. She gave a hurried reply as she stumbled toward a chair on the opposite side of the room.

"Just a moment!" She wrapped a deep blue robe around her delicate frame and proceeded to the door. With one terse movement the heavy wooden barrier was open. She was both shocked and shaken at the image before her. She tried to stutter out his name. "A-A-.."

He stood tall in all his glory. He wore golden armor that shone from his shoulders all the way to his toes. A large sword hung ceremoniously at his side swinging back and forth with each little movement he gave. Her gaze drifted up to his handsome face and she noted immediately the wry smirk on his lips. Her heart skipped a beat; before her stood Alistair, King of Ferelden.

Her mind whirled in a thousand questions. "W-what are you…"

"It's _so _refreshing to know I'm not the only one who babbles like an idiot. I was beginning to wonder…" His smirk grew as he stepped into the room.

"I- this was- _is _quite unexpected, is all." Auriel's gaze drifted into the hallway a moment as she went to shut the door. Cullen stood at the opposite end of the hallway from her door completely quiet and resolute. He had his helmet on but she was so sure she saw his gaze piercing her with a firm stare. Like always he was watching and waiting. She took a deep breath and finished closing the door. She placed her hand on the wood a moment to calm herself and turned to face Alistair.

Her trembling fingers drifted to a part in her robe near her exposed breasts and she clenched the material together tightly. Her other hand swept through her mangled tresses again. It was so ironic. He had seen her in the worst of times; blood and gore spattered all over her form or when the sun had drenched her in so much sweat she thought she'd drown in it…and here she was now, worried about a few tangled hairs. She supposed being away from someone for months would do that to a person…

In a flash his lips were on hers, desperate and clinging, as his fingers wove around her small waist. She immediately melted into the kiss. She had been waiting for this moment for so long. She didn't need any answers or explanations. Her fingers twisted into his dark locks and she pulled at them in pure delight. The frantic kiss was broken in a matter of moments by Alistair. Both of his large hands stirred to either side of her face and moved it slightly to the side. His lips drifted along the side of her face until they came to rest dangerously close to her ear. And then he whispered those three little words that took her breath away.

"I love you, Auriel…"

Auriel sat up in a sudden cold sweat and strung her fingers through her damp hair in annoyance. How many times did she have that same damn dream? How long was his face going to haunt her at night?

Months had passed since she had first come to the tower. She had come in essence to try and escape him. And she had succeeded, in a way, for months. Her mind had been filled with cataloguing potions, counting and replacing the books in the library, "political business" with new apprentices and enchanters, getting new furniture for the numerous wrecked rooms in the tower…but she still couldn't shake the dreams.

She sighed and swung her legs over the edge of the bed as she tried to gain her balance. She wondered what today would entail. Perhaps something a bit more exciting would creep up within the next few days. She could only hope.

A few hours later and she had dressed and gone down to breakfast. A few rolls and some jam had been left sitting on a random table and she decided to have her fill of them. She looked around for a moment to make sure no one was looking before taking a rather large bite of roll filled with raspberry goodness. That exact moment Cullen decided to step into the room and confront her.

"Auriel?" Cullen's voice rang out within the empty room as he stood in front of her.

Cullen's voice was …different somehow. It took her by complete and utter surprise. She wondered if it had to do with the couple of months he had previously been gone from the tower while she had come back to help. He was there for the first day to see oversee her scrub the wall, and then he had mysteriously disappeared for months on end. She had decided not to pry too much on the subject from anyone.

"Auriel?" His voice rang out into the air again, the smallest hint of concern touching its edges.

"Hmmn?" She looked up at the man before her, so familiar and yet so strange. He had definitely changed in the time he was away but she wasn't sure how exactly.

"Knight-Commander Greagoir wishes to see us both in his quarters when you are…finished…eating." His gaze wove down guiltily to her lips for the briefest of moments to study them and the humorous bulge of her cheeks. He looked away as quickly as possible, his brows creasing momentarily as his thoughts filled with vows and prayers. He turned swiftly on his heels without a goodbye to leave.

Auriel thought it an extremely strange request. After all…what did Cullen have to do with her? Or what did she have to do with Cullen? Or perhaps it didn't even involve the fact that it was _them_. She munched quickly on the rest of her roll and then proceeded to walk to Greagoir's room.


	4. Your Personal Templar

_Shattered Promises- Chapter 3_

The door was shut when she got to Greagoir's room so she decided to stand against the wall quietly until it was her turn to speak with the Knight-Commander. She wondered where Cullen was, or if he was the one in the room with Greagoir.

A sudden angry hiss of voices from the other side of the door caught her attention. She looked about the empty hallway for any signs of movement before she ambled quietly over to the door. Her hands were the first in contact with the wooden barrier and then came her pointed ear. The voices were hazy and mumbled at first but as she quieted her breathing she could hear the distinct ridicule of Wynne's tone and that of Greagoir's firing back.

"It should _not_ be without question, Wynne. You know as well as any other that she is still a mage despite her being a hero _and _a Grey Warden…" His voice took on a sharp edge. "And because she _is _both of those things, there's all the more reason she should be held as an example-"

"She did not need a Templar at her heels when she was enlisted into the Grey Wardens, and she did not _happen _to need one when she was traispsing around Ferelden trying to save it from the descruction-"

A heavy sigh from Greagoir cut the mage off beore he continued. "Those were different times, Wynne. She has pledged her loyalty to the Circle once more, and _as _such-"

Wynne's voice rang out harshly in the air. "I do not need a history lesson, Greagoir. I know full well the rules. What I _will _question however, is your choice of the Templar in question. I do not think it a good idea. Given the history-"

"What are you doing?" She thought it such a strange question from Greagoir…until she realized that it wasn't Greagoir who was speaking. She quickly hurried back from the door and looked to her left. Cullen stood there next to her questioningly, his brows rising in stunned silence.

"I-I was just…" She felt the tips of her pointed ears turning a scarlet red. She thought of herself like a child who had been sneaking their hand into the cookie jar and been caught. She wondered how he had crept so close to her without her hearing a thing. Maybe she had been too enthralled with the strange conversation? But his armor was so bulky and loud at any other time, even now.

He apparently didn't find it entertaining in the least. His steely gaze drove through her in continued inquiry. He opened his mouth to say something but snapped it shut just as quickly as he heard the door to Greagoir's office opening. Wynne stepped out swiftly, her features taking on an exasperated expression as she caught the two in her sight.

"I tried to place some sense into that thick skull of his." That was all she said to the both of them before she hurridly made her way out of view and down the steps.

A confused look filled both their faces as Greagoir's frame stepped into the doorway. "Cullen, Auriel. Please come in. There are some things we must speak on." He waved a tired hand behind of himself as he turned and strode toward his desk. With a loud _thump_ Greagoir sat in the wooden chair behind of his desk. He started his speech even before the door to his room was shut.

"There have been certain things that have come to my…attention." He motioned for Cullen to shut the door before continuing.

Cullen quickly did as commanded and came to stand beside Auriel at the head of Greagoir's desk. He shifted uncomfortably _numerous _times before finally quieting down. His fingers began to shake and his brow allowed a trickle of sweat to form.

"As you know, Auriel, mages are rarely…if ever given the chance to step outside the tower once they have been admitted." He looked pointidly in her direction. "I understand that there were many times that you were not under the supervision of the Templars, technically."

"Yes." Auriel nodded once, her dark brows knitting slightly in thought. Her lips twisted vaguely as she reflected back on those times but they were quickly drowned out by Greagoir's voice.

"The fact that you are considered a hero…" He cleared his throat softly at that. "…and a Grey Warden has been brought to my attention several times by Wynne. It is no excuse, however, for the Templars to fall lax in their duty."

Cullen wiped one of his sweaty brows as he watched Greagoir with an unblinking gaze. His lips were held in a tight line, one of obvious displeasure. Greagoir continued unphased.

"You will no doubt be called out to help the Grey Wardens with certain things…or for political reasons…or for…certain…social calls." Every word ran dry on the tip of his tounge as he continued on the topic.

"Therefore, as you have once more sworn your allegiance with the Circle you are still bound under the watchful eyes of the Templars."

Auriel cleared her throat softly. Was it beginning to get a bit warm in here, or was it just her? She didn't like where this was heading. And she supposed Cullen didn't either by his rigid stance and unblinking features. Well, if he wasn't going to speak up about it, she was. "I understand what you are implying, but-"

"My choice is Cullen. He shall be your personal Templar if you ever decide to leave the tower. If you step a foot out of the tower without him there right behind you I will have to declare-"

A sharp intake of breath from Cullen could be heard at the sudden news.

"I regret to say that I will have to declare you an apostate." Greagoir opened a locked door to his desk and pulled out a small but beautifully laced envelope. He held it out for Auriel to take. "If you are going to leave the tower concerning this, I will have to know; as will Cullen, for obvious reasons."

Cullen finally seemed to have gained enough courage to speak. He shifted in his armor, a bleak and horrified look settling on Greagoir. "B-but…Knight-Commander. There are others better suited for the task at hand. Perhaps-"

Greagoir cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "I trust you in this Cullen. It should be an honor to serve, should it not?"

Cullen's horror-struck look only deepened as he allowed his head to fall. "Of-Of course, Knight-Commander." He gave a half-bow in response.

Auriel took the letter from Greagoir's grasp quickly, her gaze drifting over the impeccibly clean white ribbon tied around the envelope. The materials looked overtly expensive and she wondered how Greagoir ended up with something of hers. She decided not to comment or ask anything else, right at this moment. Greagoir was set on his ways and would be on these types of matters. She was too curious at that point and time and she wanted to head back to her room as quickly as possible to unveil what the letter might be, or say. Her heart lept to her throat as she took hold of the ribbon and yanked softly on it.

"You are a mage capable of great power Auriel, and as such the demons will be drawn to you thriceover. We can never take too many precautions, particularly now, due to what has happened previously. I can only hope you understand why I had to make the decision that I did." Greagoir tipped his head to each of them and then gave them leave as he began to dip his quill to write a notice.

Cullen left with barely a word, the gleaming flash of his armor the only trace of him as he stepped from the room and bounded angrily down the stairs.

Auriel wasted no time in taking the steps to her room, two sometimes three with each stride. She stumbled in excitement a few times before she finally scuttled to her room and shut the door loudly behind of her. She placed herself on her bed in a cross-legged position and went to turn the sealed letter over. Her breath almost went ragged as she saw who the letter was addressed from. She placed a hand over her fluttering heart before she turned the envelope over. The stamp on the back sealed the opening of the envelope. It was a royal stamp, one she guessed that belonged to the King of Ferelden himself. With a hopeful heart she carefully peeled the envelope open and turned it upside down.

To her amazement beautiful dried petals of every color bounded from inside the envelope and placed themselves upon her bed. From brilliant yellows to profound reds, they all seemed almost perfect in shape and size. Her heart skipped a beat. Were these petals…were they all for her? The sheer amount of time Alistair must have taken to collect each rose and dry them…

She let out a long, merry sigh as she opened up the letter. She wondered what he was going to say to her. What he could have possibly been thinking about all these months away from her. Perhaps he realized, like she did, that they needed each other more than they both cared to admit and—

Her stomach nearly lurched as her eyes followed every bold flowing letter. She couldn't stop herself. She wanted to, wanted to stop the horror from filling her with each word she read but she was bound and helpless; enchanted by each word's wicked spell to continue further.

_You are cordially invited….to witness the much anticipated marriage of beloved Alistair, King of Ferelden and…Evandi…on the fourth day of…please dress your finest…bestow a gift upon the lovely soon-to-be-wed couple…it is time for the land to celebrate this most glorious union…_

Her mouth went agape, her eyes grew wide. Her tounge felt like cotton. What was he _thinking_ sending a wedding invitation? To _her _of all people…maybe he wasn't thinking at all. Breakfast threatened to spew forth from her stomach. She threw the invitation away from herself as if it was burning her fingers to even touch the thing. Pain and hurt overwhelmed her senses and the grief that she had been holding back for her lost lover came spewing forth as if a dam had broken.

A scratching sounded on the outside of her door. It was continuous and followed by loud, persistant whines. Auriel stood and went to open the door for Ember. He bounded happily into the room and jumped onto her bed. She sighed heavily and closed the door before proceeding to sit next to her canine companion. She buried her face in the fur of his neck as her fingers wove through his chocolate-colored coat. He stayed there the rest of the night to help comfort her as she cried her frustrations out.


End file.
